


Upsy Daisy

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [90]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breathplay, D/s, Face-Fucking, Figging, M/M, Rimming, Rope Bondage, clothes pins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What wasn’t expected was for Cain to pull up a chair at the edge of table where Dean’s feet were and pull his thighs wide. Because that was definitely something Dean could get on board with, scooting his butt down to the edge as far as he could get with the slack of his restraints. Cain smiled at him, wide under his bushy beard, and a little pit of gnarly anticipation curled in his stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upsy Daisy

The rain was still coming down hard outside, loud against the glass panes of the kitchen window. The back door opened to a covered porch so it was propped halfway to let the cool breeze in. Dean shifted on the table, head lolled to the side and smirking at the dirty trail of muddy boot prints that criss crossed the checkered linoleum floor. Standing by the sink, Cain rolled up his shirt sleeves and shook his head at Dean.

Dean smirked like the asshole that he was, tugging at the ropes around his wrists tied to the legs of the kitchen table. Spread eagle on his back - legs free, Cain liked it when he kicked - Dean watched. So maybe he was a stubborn little shit of a sub. It made things interesting. Not like they were going to get work done in the garden like Cain had tried roping him in to today, not with the unrelenting rain. Maybe Dean liked pressing buttons, but he was still figuring out where all of Cain’s were. Messes, those were definitely one of his buttons.

Cain rummaged around in the bundled herbs and jars on the counter top, turning back to Dean with a root in one hand a sharp paring knife in the other. Ginger? Dean wasn’t too sure what he was going to do with that, Cain still managed to surprise him. Course, they’d only been doing this for a few months. There was a lot to explore. A mutual friend had introduced them - Cas, cause he was sick of Dean bitching about wussy doms.

So ginger. Dean wasn’t too fond of it. Cain liked to shred it in tea sometimes. It was supposed to be healthy, but Dean didn’t like the taste; it was too strong. Cain still cut off a chunk of fresh root and popped it right into his mouth. God that had to sting a little, straight up like that.

When Cain started circling the table, Dean winked at him. “So what, we going to have a tea party, old man?”

Cain patted his cheek - slapped more like - and chewed his ginger. “You would make a pretty doll to play dress up. Would you like that Dean, being my doll for tea time?”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at him. Ok, so now he was thinking of being manhandled into frilly panties and a little skirt, maybe some make up. That had merit in his spank bank.

But Cain just moved lower, trailing his calloused fingers lightly over Dean’s skin. Dean had plenty of room to squirm, to push up into it. His hard cock was tapping against his hip then his belly, jigging back and forth like a metronome when he thrust up off the table and waggled it at Cain. Didn’t take much to get him hard. A little suggestion. A length of rope. The absolutely filthy way Cain looked at him that promised painful, imaginative punishment.

What wasn’t expected was for Cain to pull up a chair at the edge of table where Dean’s feet were and pull his thighs wide. Because that was definitely something Dean could get on board with, scooting his butt down to the edge as far as he could get with the slack of his restraints. Cain smiled at him, wide under his bushy beard, and a little pit of gnarly anticipation curled in his stomach.

Bypassing his cock, Cain nudged under his balls, breath warm as he kissed down the stretch of his taint. Hands splayed on his thighs holding him wide, Cain licked around his hole and Dean pushed down against it for all of a second before he felt a burning sensation.

Flopping on the table, with a muttered ‘sonofabitch’, it was instinct for Dean to pull away.

Cain gripped hard into his flesh and pinned him down, shoving between his legs and tonguing his hole with gnashed ginger in his mouth like he was trying to push it up into Dean and fuckfuckfuck it stung like a motherfucker. Grunting, twisting his fingers to claw at the rope around his wrists, Dean tried pulling his legs away but Cain had a bruising hold on him. The hot wet suck of his mouth kept Dean’s cock hard while the tingling burn of ginger started to ache. It was a weird and wholly unpleasant sensation that somehow made his inner masochist giddy, but christ when something burned like that you should probably get tested and Dean couldn’t stop writhing as he tried to get away.

Getting his lips around Dean’s hole, sloppy wet and contracting like crazy, Cain got his tongue pushed in deep and the wriggling slick feel of it was something Dean normally welcomed with whole hearted encouragement but he honestly couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing at the moment.

Dean was whimpering, horny and frustrated, when Cain pulled back. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he spit out the last remains of the ginger and wiped it on Dean’s sweaty thigh.

“Tea, then?”

“F-f-fuck you.”

Cain slapped his hip and stood, chair grating over the floor, and the fucker actually went over to the sink to fill a kettle and put it on the stove to boil.

Dean’s ass was throbbing, the burn set in and it just didn’t relent, but in the weirdest way it only made him more aware of his ass, and just how much he wanted a thick cock splitting him open right now. He liked the hurt, when he wasn’t quite prepped enough, and his muscles seized up and ached for the first few thrusts before loosening. This was like a long drawn out stretch, hyper sensitive, hot and humming and he couldn’t keep still.

Rolling his head around, Dean watched Cain who was decidedly not touching him. The old man grabbed his basket of wooden clothes pins from the shelf by the back door where he kept laundry supplies. He hung his clothes up on a line in the back yard when it was sunny out, like he lived a few centuries ago. Dude was strange.

Setting the basket down by Dean’s hip, Cain picked up a clothes pins in one hand and pinched Dean’s nipples with the other. Oh he could get on board with this, they’d done this before. Dean loved having his nipples played with, the quick bolt of pain that burrowed down and went numb until they were ripped off in a rush of blood flow that made it feel. His cock was still hard and his ass was still on fire as Cain tweaked a nipple with a cruel press of his nail, getting it stiff, making Dean’s belly jump with the spike of arousal.

Clipping both nipples, Dean was whining and rubbing his ass down on the table like it’d provide any kind of release as Cain moved lower on him. Plucking up pinches of belly pudge, Cain clipped clothes pins onto his body at random, sharp little stings of pain that faded quick but it’d hurt like hell when it was all taken off. Dean watched, staring down his body in steadily growing horror as Cain got lower to his dick.

“I - uh, I think I’ve learned my lesson -“

“I don’t think you have boy.”

Tugging his balls, pulling the taut skin out, Dean’s eyes widened when Cain pinched several clothes pins onto the wrinkled skin of his sac and motherfucker that was sensitive. And the asshole just kept on going. Wood clothes pins lined over his scrotum, Cain wrapped a hand around his cock and started stretching the skin out to lay a line of clothes pins up the underside. Dean almost laughed - deliriously - cause it looked like it gave his cock a mowhawk.

The kettle whistled. Cain patted Dean’s chest and put his basket back before getting the kettle off the stove. He actually poured a cup of tea, grating fresh ginger into it, before settling on a chair at Dean’s side.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Dean was panting, body flushed hot and his ass still trying to figure out what was going on - it was like it was pulsing alive, and he was way too aware of the sensation.

Cain sipped his tea, reaching out to flick a clothes pin pinched right onto the tip of Dean’s cock.

“I’m always serious.”

Dragging his fingertips over Dean’s body, twisting and tugging at clothes pins here and there, Cain drank his tea idly as he tortured Dean.

“You’re a fucking sadist.”

“I believe that was a prerequisite of our relationship.”

God, how long did ginger sting.

“I’m sorry ok, shit, I’m sorry.”

“For what? Dragging mud into the house, or trying to manipulate me to punish you?”

“Uh… both? Is both the right answer?”

“I don’t really feel like the apology is genuine Dean.”

“Ohshitfuckplease, my ass is on fire - just, I’m begging here man.”

Shrugging, Cain took his mug to the sink and rinsed it out before coming to stand by Dean’s head. Dean could see the thick outline of his cock in his jeans, god but he had a nice cock, fat and so soft, a little foreskin wrapped around his head that Dean loved to tease with his teeth, push his tongue under.

“Just - let me…”

Cain - very slowly - popped the button his jeans and drew the zipper down, pulling his cock out just out of reach of Dean’s tongue and stroking it.

“You think you’ve deserved it?”

“Dude, seriously?”

Pressing a single finger to his lips, Cain pulled at the swell of his lower lip and Dean was eager to flick his tongue out and try to suck it in, he could be good, he could behave, really. He just usually didn’t want to. Cain pushed fingers through his short hair and yanked, pulling his head back and Dean slid up the table, sweaty skin sticking to the wood. Head almost hanging off the back he opened his mouth slut wide and waited for it.

Hips still twitching uncontrollably, ass sore, Dean could practically feel the press of Cain’s cock into his ass when it slid into his mouth. The heft of it, the warmth, his ass was just trying to squeeze around nothing but it felt strangely erotic. Cain always fucked his mouth one of two ways - slow and teasing, or brutal and unrelenting. Of course he was being slow today, incrementally slow, pushing his spongy cock head along Dean’s palate and rocking against his tongue.

Dean was salivating, the spit trickling out the corner of his mouth and dripping down his face getting in his eyes and he didn’t give a shit. His throat seized at the first press but he was lax and eager to please and he swallowed down Cain’s cock as he pushed in just, so, slowly. His cock was weirdly between numb and hot with pain from the clothes pins, rim still stinging, and when Cain settled into his throat deep enough to cut off air then staid there, Dean’s eyes just rolled back as he sagged against the table.

Growing light headed, his whole body trembling, Cain pulled back just on the cusp of too much and Dean breathed deep down his nostrils because his mouth wasn’t going to get any rest. He braced himself, but Cain didn’t push hard he just shoved in deep and stayed there until Dean was on the edge of panic before pulling back. Lather, rinse and repeat. Hands on this throat, and Dean could feel the press of them around the bulging cock there. Fingers flicking at the pins sticking up from his nipples that made him judder with the sharp jolt of pain. The burning in his ass that only made him ache to be filled.

Loose limbed, feeling like he was coming apart at the joints and maybe he was just a doll, Cain fucked into his throat with a few deep thrusts to the point that Dean’s head started to fade black at the edges and everything went fuzzy. He was worked up and up, body swaying between deciding this was all just a bag of mixed nuts and holy shit awesome, that when Cain pulled out completely and he could gasp down a shuddering breath, when a few clothes pins were ripped form his chest and it felt like he was shocked back into adrenaline high, oxygen filling his lungs suddenly, the relief and arousal crashed through his body with an unexpected climax.

Legs kicked out off the edge of the table as he flailed through a strangely satisfying orgasm, body rippling with the ache of torn off clothes pins and his hole still burning, Dean came all over himself as Cain streaked his face with come. Mouth still hanging open, Dean tried to turn into it, get as much as he could but he was thrashing.

Grunting when Cain started pulling the other clothes pins off one by one, the aching soreness starting to tip over into annoying without arousal to blur the edges, Dean rubbed his thighs together and huffed.

“What the hell was that?”

“A pleasurable way to spend the evening.”

His wrists throbbed when Cain untied the rope, tidying up the kitchen after their little impromptu play session.

Cain rubbed over his chest and circled the pad of a thumb over a bruised nipple. “Why don’t we get you upstairs for an enema, that’ll help.”

“Fuck. My ass is still on fire.”

“Come on then.”

“M’sorry about the floor,” Dean grumbled quietly.

“I don’t mind. I’ll make you clean it up with a toothbrush later.”

“What?”

“Come on. Upsy daisy.”


End file.
